Undertale is a game about the power of kindness, and it is also a game about the terrible weight of it. Released in 2015 for PC, Mac, and Linux, and later ported to PS4, it was made almost entirely by one person, Toby Fox. It looks like a throwback to 16-bit era role-playing games, with simple pixel art and a chiptune soundtrack. It plays like nothing else.
The game asks you to do something unusual. When you meet a monster in a random encounter, you can fight it. Or you can talk to it, compliment it, tell it a joke, or offer it a glass of water. The choice is always there. The game watches what you do, and it remembers.
Trailer, via PlayStation.
The Fallen Human and the Underground
The story begins with a child who falls into a mountain and wakes up in the Underground, a vast cavern sealed off from the surface world. The monsters who live there have been banished by humans, and they are trapped. A barrier keeps them in. The only way out, you are told, is to reach the surface, and the only way to do that is to defeat the king of the monsters.
The child is named by the player. The game refers to them as the fallen human. They are guided by a small, friendly flower named Flowey, who is not friendly at all. Flowey tells you to collect the souls of the monsters, to gain power, to kill. He is the first lesson in a game full of lessons.
The characters you meet are the heart of Undertale. There is Toriel, a motherly goat monster who bakes butterscotch-cinnamon pie and wants to keep you safe in her home forever. There is Sans, a skeleton who tells puns and works a hotdog stand, and his brother Papyrus, who is desperate to capture a human so he can join the Royal Guard. There is Alphys, a nerdy scientist who watches anime, and Undyne, the head of the guard, who is fierce and determined.
Every one of them has a name, a home, and a reason for being there. The game takes the time to let you know them. It is a short game, ten hours at most, but it feels full.
Mercy and Murder
The combat system is a bullet-hell puzzle. Your soul, a small red heart, sits in a box at the bottom of the screen. Enemy attacks come at you in patterns, and you must dodge them. It is simple, but it is also tense. When you choose to fight, you press a button at the right moment to deal damage. When you choose to act, you pick an option from a menu, and the enemy reacts.
The genius of Undertale is that the game does not force you to be good. It offers you the path of violence, and it makes it easy. You can kill everything. You can grind for experience points and level up. The game does not stop you. But it tracks your choices, and the world changes around you.
If you show mercy, you gain no experience. You stay weak. The fights get harder. Bosses have long, complex attack patterns. You will die, and you will retry, and you will learn. The game rewards patience. It rewards listening.
If you kill, the game becomes easier in the short term. You get stronger. But the story darkens. Characters you might have befriended are gone. The world feels emptier. The game does not lecture you. It just shows you the consequences.
The game does not judge you, but it does not forgive you either.
There is a third path, too, a route where you kill everyone, and it is one of the most unsettling things ever put in a video game. It is not a secret that is hidden. It is a choice that is always available. The game does not judge you, but it does not forgive you either.
The Music That Carries It
The soundtrack, composed by Toby Fox, is essential to the experience. It is not background music. It is part of the storytelling. “Megalovania,” the track that plays during a late boss fight, has become iconic on its own. It is a driving, aggressive piece that has been remixed and memed countless times. But the quieter tracks are just as powerful.
“Undertale,” the game’s title theme, is a gentle, swelling piece that carries the emotional weight of the story. “His Theme” is a simple piano melody that is heartbreaking. “Spider Dance” is a jaunty, jazzy number. The music shifts with the mood, and it is always doing something specific.
Toby Fox drew on retro and chiptune sounds, mixing old-school video game textures with modern composition. The result is a score that feels both nostalgic and fresh. It is one of the best video game soundtracks of its era.
The Comedy and the Tragedy
Undertale is very funny. The dialogue is sharp and playful. Sans tells a long series of puns. Papyrus is earnest and ridiculous. There is a character named Mettaton, a robot with a television show, who performs song-and-dance numbers. The game breaks the fourth wall constantly. It knows it is a game, and it jokes about it.
But the humor is a mask. Underneath it, the game is about serious things. It is about loneliness and connection. It is about the cost of violence, and the cost of kindness. It is about the idea that your actions have meaning, even in a fictional world.
The game also deals with the idea of self-awareness. Characters sometimes seem to know things they should not know. They reference past playthroughs. They remember things that happened in a save file that no longer exists. This is not just a gimmick. It is a way of making the world feel real, and making your choices feel permanent.
The ending changes based on your actions. There is a pacifist ending, a neutral ending, and a genocide ending. Each one is different. Each one is earned. The game respects the player enough to give them the ending they have created.
The Pacifist Run
The pacifist route is the one most players will remember. It requires you to spare every single enemy, including the bosses. Each boss has a specific way to be spared. You might have to tell a joke, or compliment them, or refuse to fight. The game gives you hints, but it does not hold your hand.
The final boss of the pacifist route is a character named Asriel Dreemurr, the prince of monsters. He is a god-like figure, and his fight is long and difficult. But the game does not want you to defeat him. It wants you to save him. The fight is structured around the idea of holding on, of refusing to give up, of showing mercy even when it seems impossible.
The ending is a moment of pure catharsis. It is earned, and it is moving. It is the kind of ending that makes you want to talk about the game with anyone who will listen.
The Genocide Run
The genocide route is the opposite. It requires you to kill every monster in every area. The game warns you, but it does not stop you. The music changes. The tone changes. The characters become afraid of you. You are no longer a hero. You are a monster.
The final boss of this route is Sans, the pun-loving skeleton. He breaks the rules of the game. He attacks you in ways that seem unfair. He dodges your attacks. He talks to you about the nature of the game, about the fact that you are playing it. It is a fight that has become legendary in gaming culture. It is brutal, and it is designed to make you quit.
If you finish the genocide route, the game offers you a choice. You can erase the world, or you can refuse. Either way, the world is erased before the game resets. The game remembers what you did. It will not let you forget.
The Legacy
Undertale was a critical and commercial success. It sold millions of copies. It was nominated for multiple Game of the Year awards. It won awards for its writing and its music. Its influence can be seen in many games that came after it, games that try to give players meaningful choices, games that try to make the player feel something.
The game has also spawned a massive fan community. There are fan games, fan art, fan music, and fan theories. The characters have become beloved icons. Sans is one of the most recognizable characters in modern gaming. The game’s impact is undeniable.
But the game itself remains the thing. It is a small, personal work. It was made by one person, and it feels handcrafted. It is not a polished, corporate product. It is a vision, fully realized.
The Verdict
Undertale is a masterpiece. It is a game that uses its medium to tell a story that could not be told in any other way. It makes you think about the choices you make, and it makes you feel the weight of those choices. It is funny and sad and terrifying and beautiful.
It is not a perfect game. The combat can be frustrating. Some puzzles are obtuse. The graphics are deliberately retro, and some players might find them off-putting. But these are minor quibbles. The game’s strengths are overwhelming.
It is a game that rewards patience and kindness. It is a game that punishes cruelty. It is a game that asks you to consider what it means to be a good person, and it does not give you easy answers. It is a game that you will not forget.
Undertale is a rare thing. It is a game that lives up to its reputation. It is a game that deserves its praise. It is a game that you should play, if you have not already. And if you have played it, you know why.
